


A Little Piece

by Auber_Gine_Dreams



Category: NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Casual Sex, Hotel Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Relationship, Smoking, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-15 04:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/pseuds/Auber_Gine_Dreams
Summary: Minghao sits up quickly, even as Sicheng is crawling over him to straddle his hips.“Your bed. It’s gonna get all wet —,” Minghao starts, but Sicheng pushes him flat on his back and leans over him, eyes dark.“I don’t care,” he says. His voice is low, almost a growl, and desire shoots up from just under Minghao’s navel. “There’s two in here anyway. We can move to the other one after. If you want.”Sicheng is so sexy like this.





	A Little Piece

**Author's Note:**

> I Have Friends in Holy Spaces is a cute little song that I’ve always really loved. As soon as I heard about the fest I literally could not resist writing something for it. 
> 
> ‘Well that all depends what you qualify as friends’ is just too good of an opportunity for me to pass up on. So, here’s this :D

It’s the after-party of one of those mid-summer award shows. Minghao is surrounded by people, friends and acquaintances and others who just want to say they’ve met _the_ Xu Minghao, idol and actor and fashionista. It’s not the first time Minghao has been to something like this, but it is the first time he’s been with Junhui as his only companion. Their promotions in China have been almost nonstop and now they’re seeing the rewards.

He glances around the room, desperate for any reason to excuse himself when he sees a familiar face. He’s leaning casually against the far wall, right in front of Minghao like he’s put himself there on purpose.

Like he wants to be seen.

He’s definitely there on purpose. They lock eyes, barely long enough to blink before he holds up his fingers like he’s smoking a cigarette, his head jerking imperceptibly for the exit before he turns and walks toward the glowing sign.

Minghao gets the message. He manages to excuse himself after a few more minutes, thanking everyone for their interest and support before making his way as casually as he can to the other end of the room. He’s almost to the door when a hand squeezes his upper arm.

“God. I thought I’d never get away,” Junhui says, breathless as he stumbles into Minghao’s side. He glances around the room before pulling Minghao with him, back in the direction of their dressing room and in the exact  _opposite_ direction from where he’s trying to go.

It’s like Junhui knows what he’s up to, because he slings his arm around Minghao’s waist and grins.

“You know, I heard a rumor about you,” he says, and his eyes flash in the overhead lights. Junhui is always excited about information.

Minghao keeps his face carefully blank. Rumors fly all the time in this industry. Everyone that’s promoting together sees things, knows things that can’t be spoken about except in hushed whispers. Minghao is no stranger to this kind of talk.

“What did you hear _this time_?” Minghao asks, more to appease Junhui than out of actual curiosity.

A sly smile is spreading across his face. He’s giddy. Minghao thinks he might have taken a few of those complimentary glasses of champagne.

“I heard that you’ve gone and gotten yourself a famous friend,” he says, his hand moving up to cover his mouth, like he thinks someone might read his lips. It’s all for show. If Junhui _actually_ thought someone was listening in on them he’d switch to Korean.

“That’s pretty vague,” Minghao says, his mouth betraying him with a small smile. Rumors are always fun, as long as they aren’t too close to the truth. That’s when they get dangerous. “I know a lot of famous people. It kind of comes with the territory.”

Junhui’s smile turns wry. His eyes shine with too much surety. Junhui knows something, and Minghao is starting to get warm with nerves.

“I heard that you’ve been seeing someone in secret,” Junhui says, finally getting to the point. “You’re dating someone famous, aren’t you?”

Minghao laughs, has to stop walking and put a hand against his chest. Junhui lets him go with a frown.

“What?” he says, “That’s on good authority. I can’t believe you’d keep something like this from me.”

When Minghao finally looks up Junhui is pouting, his eyes wide as saucers like he’s about to cry.

Minghao sighs, slides his arm around Junhui’s shoulders and starts walking them back to their dressing room.

“I promise you I’m not dating anyone,” Minghao says, because that’s what Junhui is _really_ asking him. “You know I wouldn’t keep something like that from you _or_ from the others.”

When they get into their dressing room Junhui flops onto a chair, bottom lip still stuck in a pout. He’s quiet for a long time, long enough for Minghao to check through his phone and send a quick reply to the address that’s been sent to him.

“But you do have a famous friend?”

Jun’s voice is quiet, and Minghao can’t decide if he’s upset that he has bad information or if he’s upset that Minghao has friends that Junhui doesn’t know about.

He can’t hide the smirk, even as it makes Junhui huff like a petulant child.

“Well, it all depends on what you qualify as friends.”

 

 

 

 

\------

 

 

 

 

The hotel is only a block away from the one Minghao and Junhui are booked in, which makes it both easy and difficult to get to unnoticed. He has to wait for Junhui to fall asleep, and by the time he’s breathing deep and even, it’s raining.

He leaves from the back entrance that opens into an alleyway, the rain giving him a little more cover. He doesn’t bring an umbrella, just pulls his hood over his head, and the rain soaks him through before he’s even makes it around the corner.

Someone is standing in the street.

Someone who is just as concealed, hood pulled low, mask covering most of their face.

Minghao stops, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Minghao is used to being around risk takers, around people who do what they want without a care in the world to what the prying eyes all around might think, but Dong Sicheng is always surprising him with his boldness.

He’s probably the reason for the rumors.

“You didn’t have to meet me. It’s not safe for both of us to be out,” he says, and a warm hand reaches out to lace with his own. Minghao’s stomach swoops, first with excitement and then immediately with fear. He glances around even as he’s tugged forward.

“There’s no one outside,” Sicheng says, and Minghao can hear the playful smile in his voice. He can see it so clearly it makes his chest ache. “It’s raining too hard for people to be out.”

Minghao closes the distance between them so they’re walking side by side. He wants to say ‘ _if everyone is gone then why are we on a side street’_ , but he doesn’t. Instead he moves closer, bumps their shoulders together and swings their hands lightly between them.

He’s as giddy as Junhui was earlier. He looks over at Sicheng, catches the way his eyes light up. Minghao grins, and they’re both soaking wet, and Sicheng pulls him into the alley of his hotel and rips his mask down over his chin to kiss him, hot and urgent.

Minghao’s heart hammers against his ribs. He moans, his hands fisting in the front of Sicheng’s hoodie, and Sicheng licks into his mouth. He tastes like clean rain and cigarettes and Minghao pulls Sicheng closer. He lets himself get lost in it, the feeling of Sicheng’s mouth on his, his hands slipping under Minghao’s soaking clothes, touch like fire on his chilled skin.

It’s over too soon, Sicheng pulling away first. Minghao holds his gaze, his fingers still tight in his clothes. He’s not sure what he’s looking for in Sicheng’s eyes, but Minghao is the first one to blink and look away, disconnecting their bodies.

Someone might see, after all.

Sicheng takes his hand again and pulls him through a deserted side entrance. Their clothes are dripping, a trail of water the only sign that they’ve been here at all. They make it to the elevator and Sicheng hits the button for the seventh floor. Minghao’s whole body is buzzing. All he wants to do is devour Sicheng, tangle their limbs and mouths together and forget everything that isn’t the two of them.

Sicheng’s finger is tracing the edge of his hip, just along the waistband of his jeans. It makes Minghao shiver even harder than the air conditioning on his wet skin does.

How long have they been doing this? Minghao can’t really remember when it started, when the line between friendship blurred into hasty backstage make out sessions and sneaking into hotels for a few hours of time together.

They make it into Sicheng’s hotel room without seeing a single person. Minghao lets all the air out of his lungs when the door shuts. He turns the lock just because it makes him feel better, the click of it loud, final, like now they’re _really_ alone.

Sicheng pulls him further into the room, backing up until he’s right at the edge of the bed. He grips Minghao’s waist and guides him onto the mattress.

Minghao sits up quickly, even as Sicheng is crawling over him to straddle his hips.

“Your bed. It’s gonna get all wet —,” Minghao starts, but Sicheng pushes him flat on his back and leans over him, eyes dark.

“I don’t care,” he says. His voice is low, almost a growl, and desire shoots up from just under Minghao’s navel. “There’s two in here anyway. We can move to the other one after. If you want.”

Sicheng is so _sexy_ like this.

The curtains are open, but all Minghao can see is the rain pelting against the window. It’s probably a beautiful view otherwise.

Sicheng sits up and pulls his soaked hoodie and shirt over his head. His dark hair is wet enough to stick to his forehead, so he combs his fingers through it to get it out of the way. His skin is wet, glistening in the low light from the lamp between the beds. Minghao wants to lick the rain off his skin, taste every inch of him until his tongue has mapped every dip and curve of Sicheng’s body.

Minghao stares and Sicheng lets him, only pulling at Minghao’s clothes when he starts shivering from the chill. Minghao arches his back so he can slip out of his top without sitting up, and Sicheng’s hands span his back, following the path his clothes reveal. His fingers trace against his ribs and Minghao jolts, ticklish. Sicheng smirks and thumbs across his nipples before leaning down and kissing him.

Sicheng’s skin is warm, fever hot against him and he can’t seem to stop shivering. Sicheng sucks on his tongue while his hands make their way down his body, sliding between them to work his jeans open. Minghao’s hands are tracing the lines of Sicheng’s shoulder blades, and he hums when Sicheng’s hips grind into his.

They usually have to be quick, _so_ quick and _so_ careful. But it’s the middle of the night, it’s pouring rain, and the only person that would even care about his whereabouts is asleep.

They can take their time.

Sicheng gets his pants open after a few more slow kisses, slipping inside the damp fabric and pulling down. He pulls back so he can get them down Minghao’s legs and tosses them to the floor. He looks down at Minghao’s body while he rids himself of his own pants, and when they’re both naked he gets the sheets over them, laying on his side and pulling Minghao in.

Minghao spends a long time just looking at Sicheng. Their legs are tangled together and Sicheng’s cock is half hard and pressed against his thigh, but Minghao is trapped by his eyes. Sicheng is beautiful, that goes without saying. His body is long and lean, his lips are plush and soft, but it’s his eyes that really make him special. It’s like he can see everything about a person at first glance and isn’t fazed by any of it. Dark and piercing. And hot. Minghao is sure he’s never been set on fire by anyone’s eyes quite like he is when Sicheng wants him.

Minghao wonders what would happen if he let himself fall. He won’t, but he thinks about it. Him and Sicheng being an item, being exclusive, being —

Well, it’s certainly easy to consider when they’re wrapped up like this.

He wants Sicheng so he takes what he can get, and right now it’s sliding their lips together, Minghao pressing tighter against Sicheng’s chest, swallowing up his sighs.

Sicheng’s tongue slides against his just as he rolls on top of him. The sheets fall down to their hips, but Minghao doesn’t mind. He’s not cold anymore, not with Sicheng’s body rolling against his just enough to send little jolts of arousal in a line down to his groin.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Minghao pants out when they break for air.

“I want you,” Sicheng murmurs, his lips already trailing down his neck, and Minghao groans, arching up to give Sicheng more of his skin, whatever he wants.

Sicheng’s nose is cold against his stomach, a tiny point against his suddenly hot skin. He’s getting harder by the second, his cock dangerously close to Sicheng’s mouth. He thinks about Sicheng’s full lips wrapped around him, thinks about the few times they’ve jerked each other off in bathroom stalls, the one time he gave Sicheng a blowjob in a supply closet. It makes him hot all over, and when Sicheng sighs out next to his erection Minghao moans.

He looks down and Sicheng is smirking at him, eyes dark and hungry. He looks like he’s going to eat Minghao alive.

Sicheng pops the cap on the lube and Minghao can’t remember him ever pulling it out, but he’s definitely not complaining. Sicheng’s fingers are trailing up the inside of his thigh, his mouth hovering just above Minghao’s aching cock.

He doesn’t want to beg, but he’s got a feeling Sicheng won’t give him anything if he doesn’t ask for it.

“Sicheng,” Minghao pants, closes his eyes half way and runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “ _Please_.”

Sicheng stares at him while his fingers circle his rim. He blinks, slowly, before the corner of his mouth ticks up and he slips his finger inside. Minghao’s head hits the pillow, all the air leaving his lungs at once. Sicheng licks the underside of his cock as he works his finger, and it’s not the first time they’ve done this but it feels like it could be, like Minghao’s body is overeager, embarrassingly sensitive.

He works in another finger, waits for Minghao to grip his hair before he devours Minghao’s cock. His mouth is hot and wet and Minghao’s back arches off the bed and he _moans_. It’s loud, it’s way too loud but Sicheng doesn’t shush him, just hums around his cock and crooks his fingers to graze his prostate.

Minghao’s whole body is thrumming, desire and heat and arousal melting away everything that isn’t Sicheng. He wants to touch Sicheng too, wants to give as much as he’s getting, but it’s hard to think when Sicheng comes off his cock, lips slick and pink, his tongue trailing down to the base.

Minghao’s hands fall out of his hair as his mouth sinks lower, until he’s working his tongue in with his fingers and he throws one of Minghao’s legs over his shoulder so he can get as deep as he wants.

Sicheng is fucking him with his tongue and Minghao looks down and watches his hips twitch against the sheets. He’s grinding down, just enough to create a little friction, and it’s so hot he has to look at the ceiling or he’s _definitely_ going to come.

“Please —,” Minghao groans. A line of sweat drips down, pools in his collarbone and he shivers. “ _Please_.” He’s not even sure what he’s asking for anymore, but he can’t stop asking for it.

Sicheng gives him one more broad lick, his fingers pressing deep into him before he pulls back, moves his head from between Minghao’s legs to slick himself up. He’s so hard, dripping precum that mixes with the lube he works over his cock. Minghao wants to touch him, so he sits up and does just that, glides his fingers over the slickness and watches Sicheng’s eyes flutter, lip trapped between his teeth as he fights not to buck into Minghao’s hand.

“Want you,” Sicheng sighs out, and Minghao has never been able to deny Sicheng anything, not since the first time they kissed.

He lies back with a final squeeze to the shaft, trails his slick hand over Sicheng’s hip as he lines himself up.

There’s a flash of lightning outside. It lights up the skyline and Minghao can’t stop staring at the afterimage. It’s a little too much like a camera flash and it takes him out of the moment, makes a little fear run icy through his veins. Sicheng gets his attention quickly enough, touches his jaw with too much tenderness, turns him until their eyes lock. It’s a silly thought, anyway. Sicheng’s room is on the seventh floor. It’s just the two of them.

He gasps when Sicheng pushes in. It’s tight, it’s _so_ tight but it feels so good and Sicheng goes slow, eases in carefully until he bottoms out. Minghao traces the edge of his shoulders and Sicheng leans down to kiss him and that should be gross but Minghao doesn’t care, just moans when Sicheng’s tongue slides against his.

It doesn’t take long for him to adjust, and soon enough Minghao is rocking his hips against Sicheng, sending little jolts through his body with each movement. It’s already too much and he’s barely moving. Sicheng kisses him again, pulls half way out before slipping back in. It’s _so good_ and Minghao’s moans are swallowed up by Sicheng’s mouth.

Like he wants to keep the sounds for himself, and maybe he does.

It’s the slowest they’ve ever done this, Sicheng’s pace gentle and easy, filling Minghao up with warm and hazy pleasure. He stays close, and Minghao’s cock rubs against his stomach, a constant friction that’s got him closer than he wants to admit. He breaks the kiss and lets out the most _embarrassing_ whine into Sicheng’s neck, rolling his hips to get him to pick up the pace.

He’s panting, a breathless whisper of Sicheng’s name and _close_ and probably all sorts of things, but his mind goes blank when Sicheng pulls out and rolls Minghao onto his stomach, hauling his hips up and fucking back into him. It’s a lot rougher this way, a lot deeper too, and Minghao buries his face in the sheets and moans out Sicheng’s name like a prayer. His hand snakes down to his cock, and he’s torn between stroking himself and squeezing tight to stave off his orgasm.

Sicheng groans, thrusts faster, his hand pressing into the space between Minghao’s shoulder blades, pushing him harder into the mattress. God it’s so _hot._ Sometimes Minghao wants Sicheng like earlier, soft and easy, and sometimes he wants Sicheng to fuck him senseless. It’s not often he gets to have both.

Minghao finally regains himself, strokes his aching cock and thrusts back into Sicheng, desperate for release. The hand on his back eases up, runs through his sweat damp hair a few times before pulling tight, and Minghao has to arch his back to ease the tension. It makes Sicheng rub against him just right, and he lets out a choked off moan. Sicheng lets go of his hair but Minghao keeps his back arched, tightens his hand in the sheets when Sicheng leans down and presses his chest to his back. He nips at the back of his neck and when he breathes out shaky and hot Minghao comes all over the sheets.

It doesn’t take Sicheng much longer, a few more erratic thrusts and he’s coming inside Minghao with a soft moan that’s so sexy Minghao’s whole body shudders as he’s wracked with aftershocks.

Minghao falls forward and Sicheng follows him, stays inside and pressed tight against his back. It should be uncomfortable, but Sicheng isn’t heavy and even if he were, Minghao kind of wants to keep him close. They stay that way until their breathing slows and the sweat has all cooled on Minghao’s skin. He’s starting to feel cold again.

It’s still raining when Sicheng pulls out. The sheets are still wet, too. Minghao sighs and pulls Sicheng into his arms. Come is trickling down the inside of his thigh. He shivers and Sicheng’s arms go tight around him.

“At the party before,” Minghao starts, meeting Sicheng’s eyes, “Junhui told me there’s a rumor going around.”

Sicheng’s smile is wry.

“Rumor? What is it?”

“Apparently I’m dating someone in secret.”

Sicheng’s eyes are too mischievous for the gravity of the situation. He’s probably heard them already, or maybe he’s heard worse. Minghao’s entitled to pry, at least a little.

He pushes Sicheng’s shoulder weakly. “You don’t look very surprised.”

Sicheng leans in and kisses him, soft and gentle and the rain is hitting the windows like a song, enough to drown out everything that’s not in this room.

When he pulls back, Sicheng is grinning. It’s almost infectious.

“I’m the one that told Junhui.” Minghao can’t hide his shock and Sicheng is quick to continue. “He doesn’t know about us, but he knows we’re friends. He’s asked me about you before, and this time I just couldn’t resist baiting him a little.”

Minghao groans, covers his face with his hands and Sicheng kisses the back of each of his fingers.

“I’ll never hear the end of this. He’s going to bother me until I tell him, especially after tonight.”

Sicheng pulls his hands away from his face, rolls onto his back and pulls Minghao on top of him.

“Why after tonight?”

It’s a question he already knows the answer to. It’s the reason they haven’t moved to the other bed yet.

It’s still raining. Heavy, pelting drops hit the window like a warning and lightning flashes across the skyline. Not that Minghao needs any more encouragement.

Minghao stretches his arms above his head, exaggerates the arch in his back even when his muscles ache, even though it makes more come trickle out of him. He looks down at Sicheng with half-lidded eyes.

“Because I’m not going back tonight.”

Sicheng’s hands find his hips, and it’s like the song starts all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/woncheoling) // [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/tsukkitaeil)


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